


The Troupe's Tattooist

by Pebblish



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: F/F, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Reader is a tattoo artist, has ties to the mafia and criminal underworld, if this does well or people like it I'll continue it, reader is a badass, that works with the phantom troupe, yes you are ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29551731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pebblish/pseuds/Pebblish
Summary: You are a tattoo artist with clients throughout the criminal underworld- this isn't anything odd for the daughter of one of the Ten Dons. You frequently work with the Phantom Troupe, tattooing them and getting dragged into some of their jobs whether you like it or not. Hijinks and crimes ensue- all in a day's work for the Phantom Troupe's tattooist. You have a strict rule against getting involved with clients- which seems to be conveniently forgotten the moment you are actually tested. Oh well- you could do a lot worse than a group of psychotic, murdering thieves, right?I wrote this on a whim because I couldn't get the idea of a criminal tattoo artist who also works as an assassin and tattoos members of the troupe out of my head- hope you all enjoy whatever this is. I will contribute to this when I have time or have the inspiration.
Relationships: Feitan (Hunter X Hunter)/Reader, Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader, Illumi Zoldyck/Reader, Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader, Pakunoda (Hunter X Hunter)/Reader, Phinks (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader, Shalnark (Hunter X Hunter)/Reader, Shizuku (Hunter X Hunter)/Reader, Uvogin (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

Hisoka hummed, fixing you with his yellow eyes, shining like a cat’s. His arm snaked out to wrap around your waist, but you slapped it away, glaring at him pointedly. 

“Keep your hands to yourself and sit still if you don’t want this to look like shit,”

You hissed, turning back to the work at hand. You had to focus your nen, your aura into the needle as you worked, inking the tattoo into Hisoka’s abdomen. 

“I’m getting bored, can you blame me?” 

His voice was teasing, but he released you from his heated gaze, reclining his head back to stare at the ceiling high overhead. 

“I’m almost done with this. If you’re patient, I’ll be done before you know it, and my work will be much better if you simply leave me to it.” 

Hisoka was always a frustration to work with- he was always fidgeting, restless, or teasing. He could never keep his hands to himself. 

Someone cleared their throat behind you, but you kept your eyes fixed on Hisoka’s pale skin, continuing to ink in the tattoo. 

“So what have you been up to, Y/N?” 

Shalnark came into view, moving to sit on the ground beside you.

“I just came from finishing up a job, in fact.” You released your aura and the nen needle disappeared, straightening up to stretch your arms, sighing loudly. 

“You’re done, Hisoka. Leave it for a bit and I’ll come back within the week to finish it.”

Hisoka didn’t move, still reclining languidly. 

“And what was the job?” Shalnark always took great interest in your jobs, seeming to find your life exceedingly interesting. You picked up your bag and slung it over your shoulder, and grinned at the memory. 

“I was working on some mafia boss’s son. I was working on it about a week ago when he tried to make a pass at me, much like this one here,” You gestured towards Hisoka. 

“However, he went considerably farther than this bastard, and as you know, I make it a rule to not sleep with clients. The man didn’t seem to comprehend that fact, so I left the job quite quickly.”

You ran a hand through your hair, pulling it into a rushed ponytail. 

“He called me to come finish the job today, all but cursing my name and saying I’d regret if I didn’t finish the job.” You laughed raucously, the sound echoing in the massive abandoned building. 

“So I went in to finish the tattoo but I don’t expect he’ll be around to enjoy it for much longer.” You dug around in your jacket pocket for a moment, fishing out the tiny tincture bottle to show it to Shalnark. 

“Leodis tears. A little bit of this on my nen needle as I tattoo the skin and he’ll be dead within the week, with none the wiser.” You kissed the bottle and slipped it back into your pocket, smirking down at Shalnark. 

“My sweet father gave it to me for my birthday. It was quite an ordeal to even obtain it, but little is impossible for him,” 

Shalnark laughed at your account of how you poisoned the idiot for not suspecting that his tattoo artist was anything more than they appeared. 

“And your father is?” Hisoka had leaned forward at last, evidently he had been listening intently to your account the entire time, only pretending to be uninterested. 

“You don’t know? Y’N’s dad is one of the Ten Dons,” Shalnark piped in, rising to his feet. 

Hisoka’s eyes flashed, a smirk curling across his lecherous face. 

“Is that so?” 

You turned away from him, shrugging your shoulders. 

“It makes no difference to me. It only means my clients are more dangerous than if I were a simple artist working in a shop. It also means my dad sometimes has requests.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket, fingers moving rapidly over the keys to send a text to your father. 

“Requests? Do tell,” Hisoka’s voice had taken on a sing-song quality, as if he was taunting you for answers. Not that he had to. The truth about your family and your work wasn’t exactly a secret. 

“Well, even if that douchebag hadn’t made a pass at me, he was still going to end up as a hit. My dad asked me to take care of him. Some rival mafia business or something like that. Dreadfully boring stuff that he tasks me with.”

You hummed slightly, seeing your father respond within seconds, slipping the phone back into your pocket. You turned to Shalnark, raising a hand to scratch your head. 

“Anything else you all need before I head out? My dad is sending a car to come pick me up. Something about more family business.” You rolled your eyes- your father was always giving you the shitty jobs, the messy jobs that your brothers couldn’t bother to take care of. 

Shalnark looked around at the other Troupe members, and you scanned the room again, the others lounging around lazily. It was an off day for the Troupe, with no new jobs coming in. 

“I’m not sure. I know I’m good, but I think Uvogin had mentioned something-” 

At that moment the massive bear of a man burst into the room, his eyes landing squarely on your much smaller figure. 

“Y/N!” He smiled widely, sidling over to clap a huge hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, Uvo. Long time no see,” you smiled back at him, the smile genuine. Uvogin was one of your favorite Troupe members- he was easy to get along with, jovial, and fiercely loyal. He was also the ideal client to work with; he always knew exactly what he wanted when it came to the tattoo design, and he never put up a fuss when it came to the actual tattooing process. 

“You got time to look over some of my tattoos? I think a few of them need touch ups, plus I’ve got an idea for a huge piece on my arm,”

Uvo winked.

“If you’re up to it of course,” 

You nodded, sliding your bag off your shoulder and setting it onto the ground. 

“I’ve got time, and the driver can wait for all I care. Touch ups will have to wait until I’m back next week to add color to that one’s tattoo,”

You gestured dismissively in Hisoka’s direction, as Uvo sat down pulling his shirt off swiftly. 

There was his massive twelve-legged spider tattoo on his lower back- your own handiwork. The tattoo still looked like it was freshly inked, as if you had finished it yesterday, not all those years ago. You were immensely proud of all of the Troupe members' signature tattoos- they were, in your opinion, your greatest works, never seeming to fade or otherwise disfigure. You had poured all your focus and used a considerable amount of nen for each one, knowing that these tattoos were a matter of pride. The Troupe members appreciated your dedication to your craft, and the way your tattoos held up better than any other artist because you used nen while tattooing. 

Uvogin had other tattoos across his back, some stretching across his massive shoulders. These had faded a little, and you prodded the skin here and there, frowning slightly. 

“You been having trouble lately, Y/N? I know you said that your dad was giving you a hard time,”

Uvo looked over his shoulder to examine you, concern in his dark eyes. He considered you part of the Troupe, an essential ‘family’ member, and was therefore fiercely loyal to you, and concerned for your wellbeing. 

You sighed, bending down to rummage through your bag. 

“Yeah, it’s been a bit of a rough time lately, I will admit. My dad keeps harping on me about my,” you rolled your eyes sharply, voice coated in sarcasm, “associations.” You pulled out your notebook, scribbling hastily in it for a moment. 

“The man thinks that I need to stop my work and start taking over more of the family business. He worries about my client list, thinks I take on too many risks,” 

Uvo raised his eyebrows. You scribbled a few more notes about plans to touch up his tattoos, then gestured for him to put his shirt back on. 

“The man is barking mad. He’s started to get a bit obsessive about it, hounding on me when I come home from a job, always wanting to keep tabs on who I’ve been working with.” You closed your bag up again, slinging it over your shoulder, the contents inside clinking. 

Uvo stood, stretching his arms out and sighing. 

“If you have to cut back on your visits here, I don’t think the Troupe will mind all that much. You’ve done more than enough for us. Your old man is probably right to worry,”

He eyed you sharply, frowning. 

“We aren’t the only murderers you hang around or work with. I know how you love to work with questionable characters in the underworld, even by underworld standards.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, gritting your teeth. You were getting very tired of people constantly telling you what to do, who to associate with, how to go about your work. You were more than capable of handling yourself. You were much, much more than a simple tattoo artist for some lowly criminals. 

“You should know better than anyone that I am more than capable of taking care of myself,” 

You pulled out your phone as it began to vibrate, holding it to your ear. The towncar driver was on the other end of the line, getting antsy that you still hadn’t stepped out of the rundown building. 

You addressed Uvo again, ignoring the pleading from the driver to simply get into the car, as your father was ‘very insistent you come home immediately.’ 

“Besides,” you made your way to the exit, looking over your shoulder. 

“If I do end up over my head and someone finally takes me out, it’s not that much of a loss.” you shrugged, taking one last look at Uvo and Shalnark.

“My dad has other kids to inherit the family business, and there are other tattoo artists out there. But thanks,”

You smiled at Uvo, waving nonchalantly.

“I appreciate the concern.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a new job from your father- a hit on one of the Zodiacs. Upon hearing this, the members of the Phantom Troupe get angry, worried you're being too reckless. Drama ensues.

“How did the business go with your dad?” Uvo was laying out in front of you with his shirt off. You bent over his massive back, your hand delicately and meticulously working the ink into his dark skin. 

You paused for a moment, the nen focused in your hand and needle fluctuating slightly. 

“Lousy. As usual.” 

You turned slightly to take out another needle from your bag, humming as your hand rummaged in the bag, seemingly finding  _ every _ piece of tattooing equipment  _ other _ than the damned needle you needed for the next bit of the tattoo. 

“Need help?”

Shalnark bent down beside you, pushing gently past your hand to search your bag. He pulled out the soft case of needles and handed them to you, and you thanked him profusely, laying the case out on the table, fingers trailing over the needles until you found the perfect instrument for the next part of the tattooing process. 

“What did he want from you this time?”

Shalnark seated himself beside you, playing with his phone, his voice light and curious. 

You narrowed your eyes and focused your nen again, one hand placed firmly on Uvo’s back, the other holding the needle.

“He wants me to start working under him more. He is trying to pick the next heir from his children. That means bringing all of us in, and testing us.”

You stuck your tongue out in concentration, huffing slightly at the thought. It seemed like your father had already made up his mind regarding who he was going to choose as his next heir, but you couldn’t go up against him in this matter- at least not for very long without him bringing you back by force. 

“I think his purpose for bringing me back into the fold is more just to keep me under his thumb. He’s always been more protective and obsessive about me than my brothers. He worries about my work more and more.”

You straightened up, sighing. You stretched your arms out, cracking your knuckles and yawning hugely.

“Uvo, you’re done. I’ll do the rest when I come back. I can’t do the whole thing right now, I’m not focused enough to do it justice, and I can’t do a job half-assed.”

Shalnark stood as well, looking over at you with concern in his bright green eyes. 

“Have you been taking care of yourself? You look and sound terrible,”

You shook your head, scrunching up your face and groaning. 

“Not in the slightest. I’ve been pulling all-nighters lately working on my next hit.”

You rolled up the case of needles and moved past Shalnark to slide it into your bag. 

“This next hit is going to be a real clusterfuck. I’ve spent enough money just getting information on this motherfucker that I’m not sure the payout will even be worth it.”

Shalnark raised his eyebrows at that, as Uvo roused himself and moved to stand from the table, not bothering to put his shirt back on. 

“And who’s the poor son of a bitch that you’ve been hired to get rid of?”

Uvo asked, staring at you with his hands on his hips. 

You frowned, not wanting to worry these two more than they already seemed to be. They thought of you like family, and had grown increasingly concerned over your jobs and associations in the criminal underworld, becoming quite protective of you. 

“Now you both need to remember that I can take care of myself. Don’t freak out on me or I’ll stop talking about my jobs,”

Uvo rolled his eyes but nodded, Shalnark not moving. 

“My dad wants me to take out one of the Zodiacs,” 

Shalnark whistled at your words, Uvo’s eyes widening. 

“You’re fucking insane. Don’t tell me you actually took the job,”

Uvo’s voice rose steadily, his tone sharp. The tension in the room spiked, the aura heightening suddenly around Uvo, the rage in his aura palpable. 

You immediately braced yourself, defensive nen kicking in on instinct. You narrowed your eyes at him, lips pulling back in a snarl. 

“I thought I told you to mind your own fucking business, Uvo. I don’t need you breathing down my neck like I can’t take care of myself, thank you very much.”

Shalnark moved between the two of you, hoping to diffuse the situation. He raised his hands and sized you up, taking in your defensive nen. 

“Calm down, Y/N. Let’s talk about this,” You felt your hackles raise, knowing Shalnark was about to belittle you, convince you that you couldn’t handle yourself without the Troupe’s help. You’d accept the Troupe’s help if they offered it freely, instead of trying to force it on you in an attempt to keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble. 

“Keep out of this, Shal. If Uvo has a problem with my work he can fucking tell me himself.”

Uvo stepped forward, his hands clenching into fists. 

“You’re acting absolutely batshit, Y/N. Even you have to know how crazy and absurd this job would be. The Zodiacs are an entirely different level. Probably on the same level as the boss in terms of nen. This isn’t just us worrying about you- if even Machi or Feitan were to come back with this job, we’d force them to take help,”

You released part of your nen, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, glaring at the pair of them. You knew you were being unreasonable, that you were truly annoyed at your father and your family, not the Troupe- but you were so tired of everyone policing your actions as if you were a child- it was getting old very quick. You turned away from the two, striding out of the room and down the dark hallway only lit by the light at the end of it. 

It was impossible not to hear Uvo’s stomps as he followed, Shalnark trailing behind. You followed the source of the light into the massive open space with rubble scattered on the floor, the rest of the Troupe lounging about the room. 

The others immediately sensed the tension as you entered the room with Uvo storming in after, Shalnark bringing up the rear. 

“Don’t you dare try to run away from us, Y/N!” Uvo’s voice was verging on shouting, the others in the room rousing at this and looking between you and Uvogin. 

“What’s going on here?”

Machi’s clear voice cut through the air, stepping forward to stop Uvo, placing one hand on his chest.

“Nothing, just Y/N off on a goddamn suicide mission,”

Uvo huffed, as you wheeled around to face the others. 

“Let’s just talk about this for a bit, Y/N. Why are you so stubborn and set on refusing our help? You could seriously end up dead over this job.”

You rummaged in your bag, pulling out a box of cigarettes and lighter, stuffing one of them roughly into your mouth, angrily flicking the lighter to life, cradling the cigarette in one hand as you stared down Uvogin. 

“Fine then. Say your piece. Then I’m out of here.”

Shalnark cleared his throat, stepping forward. 

“You should know the reputation of the Zodiacs. I understand you’re very capable, probably one of the best in the field. But even a Zoldyck would have trouble with one of those Hunter Association sheep. They’re hand chosen by the Chairman. Accomplished Nen users in their own right, several of them bounty hunters.”

Shalnark raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. 

“Bounty hunters that wouldn’t hesitate to turn you in for the sizable bounty on your head, I’m sure. What would you do if you got captured, imprisoned?”

You exhaled a wreath of smoke, and sneered. 

“I’d probably kill myself. Can’t go about revealing the family secrets under interrogation, now can I?”

Shalnark swallowed at that. 

You scanned the room. The boss was noticeably absent. 

“I’m going then. If I manage to not get myself killed, I’ll be back.”

You turned towards the door, only for Phinks to be standing there, arms crossed over his chest. He exchanged a look with Uvogin, inclining his head slightly. 

“I think you need to stay until we get this sorted,” 

Phinks growled, cracking a knuckle as he towered over you. 

You turned from him back to Machi, Shalnark, and Uvogin. Raising one eyebrow, you took another pull from your cigarette.

“Keeping me here until I agree to a babysitter? Really?” 

Uvogin nodded. 

“I’m not about to let you waltz off to get yourself killed. You’re family. We make sure family is taken care of.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing your bag onto the ground to rummage through it, seizing your phone. 

You dialed hastily, eyes flicking from Phinks as he stood at your shoulder, to the other Troupe members standing around the room. 

The ringing on the other line cut out, a butler answering swiftly. 

“Get my brother to my location immediately. I don’t give a shit if he’s in a meeting. Tell him it’s about the job. If he isn’t on his way in the next ten minutes, I’ll ensure your family is attending your funeral within the week.”

You let out another puff of smoke, watching it disappear in the air. 

“Am I clear?”

Your voice left no room for discussion, and you didn’t bother to keep the stammering servant on the line, ending the call abruptly. 

You tucked the phone into your pants pocket, gesturing with your cigarette at Uvogin. 

“My brother will be here soon. He can explain the job and why I was tasked with it, and why I don’t need a babysitter. If that doesn’t satisfy you, you’ll have to find yourself a different tattoo artist in the future.”

  
  


It was only thirty minutes later when the sound of footsteps could be heard from the corridor that led to the exit. A pair of glowing yellow eyes could be seen moving in the darkness, the sound of clacking, expensive dress shoes accompanying the movement. 

A figure materialized at the end of the corridor, striding confidently into the open space where the Troupe members were idling. 

It was your eldest brother, the next head of the family (as you suspected- your father was still testing all of his children to find his heir, but it seemed a moot point when your brother was so clearly next in line).

He was tall, at least six and a half feet. He was wearing a suit with a crimson tie, his black dress shoes so shiny you could see your reflection. His expression was bored, nearly indifferent as he scanned the room. He had the calculating, bone-chilling yellow eyes of a snake, fitting as you considered him just as coldblooded. 

He took a step towards you, eyes narrowing, lips pulling back into a sneer. 

“Dearest little sister. I should have known you’d be here, hanging with this rabble.”

He adjusted his tie, ran a hand through his gelled back hair, and fixed his eyes on Phinks standing just behind you, then to Machi, Shalnark, and Uvogin a few feet away. 

He strode forward, hands in his long black overcoat. 

His eyes somehow managed to get even colder as they fixed on you, eyebrows drawing together as he continued to sneer. 

“I knew you were stupid and fairly reckless, but truly you’ve reached a new height with the people you’ve come to associate with. I’m starting to understand why father wants to keep you locked up at the estate,”

You growled at that, stalking forward before Phinks laid a huge hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. 

You looked over your shoulder at him and he shook his head minutely. Phinks knew you too well- both of you acted without thinking, and he knew that you would do something you’d regret if he didn’t hold you back. 

“I’m not going to be kept like a fucking dog at the estate.” You hissed back, shrugging out of Phinks grip. 

“I’m fine, Phinks. I’m not going to do anything. He’s just being an ass,”

Simon cocked his head at that, eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Watch yourself, little sister. You know I can drag you back home at any time. When we let you off your leash, it’s to accomplish something for the family. And when it’s time for you to come home, you do so. That’s your job. Your  _ only _ job. We let you play pretend here with your little band of thieves and whatever other rabble you associate with because it makes you easier to handle when it’s time for you to come back into the fold.”

Uvogin stepped towards your brother, his arms crossed over his chest. Your brother cut a tall and imposing figure himself, but Uvo made him look like a child in comparison. 

“I think  _ you _ should watch how you speak here. You are in  _ our _ base. Not at the Isidore family estate.”

Simon’s eyes flicked disdainfully over to Uvogin. 

“You’re the one who has a problem with the family business and my sister’s job?”

Uvogin smirked. “Yes, I am. I think you’re sending her off on a suicide mission.”

Simon laughed, throwing his head back at that. 

The sound was raucous as it echoed around the room.

“Oh, how I wish it was, in fact, a suicide mission,” 

Simon looked back at you, his gaze so cutting that if looks could kill, you’d be dead and buried.

“There is no love lost between myself and my sister. But I know she can handle herself on this. I have every reason to give her a job she can’t handle, especially since she’s slated to the be the next head of the family, taking my rightful place as heir,”

This statement had you rooted to the spot, eyes widening in shock. You, the next heir? What the fuck was your father thinking? You wanted no part of the family business any more than the occasional job your father or brothers tasked you with. You were not prepared to assume the title of a Ten Don. 

“Uh- what?”

Your voice broke the sudden hushed silence that had fallen about the room after your brother’s little speech. 

Simon rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“As if you didn’t know that’s why Father has been keeping you under increased surveillance and trying to keep you at the estate. He’s trying to train you to assume his role when the time comes.”

You dropped your cigarette, stepping towards your brother. 

“I don’t want to be the next heir to the family. I’ve never wanted that. Dad knows that. I’ve told him that many, many times,” 

Your voice was insistent, rising an octave at this revelation that was entirely unwelcome. 

Simon huffed, digging his phone out of his pocket and fiddling with it for a moment, sending a quick text to his town car driver. 

He looked up at Uvo, lips pursing in disdain. 

“I’ll be taking my little sister with me, if you don’t mind. We have  _ family _ business to attend to.”

Simon brushed past Uvo, walking up to you. He loomed over you, eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

He seized your arm roughly, dragging you towards the corridor exit. 

“Say goodbye to your merry band of thieves, Y/N. If Dad has his way you won’t be seeing them again!”   
You let yourself be dragged along by your brother, knowing it was pointless to fight him. You and him were perhaps evenly matched in raw skill and a fight could swing either way, but it would be more trouble than it was worth. Better to appease Simon, and by extension the rest of the family by following along. For now, at least. 

You looked over your shoulder at the Troupe members standing around, watching Simon drag you away.

“Don’t get yourself killed, Y/N. For real. If you do I’ll be pissed.” Uvo growled, pointing at you. 

Shal murmured in agreement, Machi nodding. 

“I’ll be back, I promise! I can handle myself, and I’ll be back to finish your tats before you know it.”

The afternoon sun beat down on your face as Simon refused to release his grip on your upper arm, a sleek black town car idling in the street outside the Phantom Troupe base. The driver opened the back door, and Simon threw you roughly inside, sliding into the car after you. 

He settled himself into the leather seat, smoothing out the front of his suit. 

“Really. You revel in wasting my time, don’t you?”

You scowled, ignoring Simon to look out the window. Shal was standing in the doorway, his face dark with worry. 

You blew a kiss to him, trying your best to muster a smile. 

You would see them again. This job wasn’t a suicide mission- you’d come back to them, to your  _ real _ family. 

Shalnark lifted his hand as if to catch your kiss, his frown lifting slightly. 

The town car sped off, and you watched him and the base fade into the distance at the edge of the horizon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this story so far! I'm just writing this to fulfill my main character urges lol, so it's pretty self-indulgent- the reader is a badass solely because I want to be a badass tattoo artist assassin who associates with hot thieves. Thinking of continuing with a loose plotline and definitely working in some romance/smut scenes. To be honest I might have the reader get with nearly everyone in the Phantom Troupe because I can't choose and I have all the time in the world to write smut lol.  
> Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter and where you'd like to see the story go- I want to make sure the readers are enjoying the story as much as I am!


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